


sleep, slur, slow

by hydrochaeris



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 14:58:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5421350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydrochaeris/pseuds/hydrochaeris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver wishes Percy could see himself like Oliver sees him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sleep, slur, slow

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd and messy but I just wanted to write them being cute. and for Percy to be told that he deserves the world.

Oliver stumbles into the common room only to find the fire flickering with its last embers and Percy hunched over a parchment that’s at least thirty centimeters long.

“What the hell are you doing?” he says. His voice is a sleep deprived rasp, and he clears his throat. “Percy?”

“Finishing my Arithmancy essay,” Percy replies, not looking up. “It’s due on Thursday.”

“But today is Tuesday,” Oliver says, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Please come to bed.”

Percy shakes his head. “I have to finish by tonight. I won’t be able to work on it at all tomorrow.”

“What do you mean? What do you have tomorrow?”

Percy raises his head and runs a hand through his already mussed hair. Oliver wants to appreciate how beautiful his boyfriend looks, even with ink smudged over his right cheek, his glasses crooked on the bridge of his nose, and splotches of blue wax dotting his left hand, which was holding down his parchment under a burned out candle.

“Tomorrow is the only day of this month where you don’t have a Quidditch match or practice and I don’t have to tutor first through third years. And our two year anniversary is Friday. But you have a match then.” Percy blushes, and Oliver feels very suddenly awake. He hadn’t—forgotten their anniversary, really. He just didn’t know that Percy would want to do anything about it.

“Oh.” Oliver steps closer, closing his hands over Percy’s right hand and the quill that’s clutched in it. “But it looks like your essay is done.”

“I’m proofreading,” Percy explains, eyes returning to his paper. His red-blond eyelashes, which vanish in normal daylight, paint long shadows over his cheekbones in the dimly-lit room. Oliver cups a hand under Percy’s chin and uses his thumb to rub circles into the junction of his jaw and ear. Percy tightens, then relaxes as Oliver works the tense muscle in a calming pattern. Oliver knows that Percy has a bad habit of gritting his teeth and locking his jaw when he’s under stress. This situation has, apparently, been no different.

“Come to bed,” he repeats, and Percy sags against his hard-backed chair. “Please, love?” He releases Percy’s chin so that Percy can respond. “You’ll proofread it again in the morning. And then we’ll go to classes. And then after that…”

“I have plans,” Percy says as Oliver’s hands move to his shoulders. He’s only wearing a thin undershirt, and the gentle curve of his shoulders is pronounced through the fabric. “I wanted us to—to—” He tilts his head back, and Oliver leans down and kisses him, off center and wet. Percy still has trouble asking for things from him, especially when they’re sexual, but Oliver knows his body language. He’s always scared that one day he’ll read it wrong, and Percy will shut him out completely. That day hasn’t come, though, and for now he’s perfectly content to kiss a line down Percy’s neck, leaving only faint pink marks in his wake. “I figured out a place. Where we can be— _oh_ ,” Percy moans as Oliver bites his collarbone hard. “Where we can be together. If you want that.”

Percy’s skin is speckled with beauty marks and freckles of varying sizes, and Oliver is going to find every single one tomorrow afternoon. There are patches of freckles on his cheekbones, his shoulders and upper back, his forearms, and beauty marks on his neck, his chest, his lower back, his soft stomach, and all over his legs. Oliver pulls back from Percy’s throat to murmur, “I do. I want to do so much with you. Everything you want to do.”

He nuzzles Percy’s chest gently, and Percy laughs, the sound purposefully cut off because, Oliver knows, he’s self-conscious about it, the quill finally falling out of his hand to cradle Oliver’s head closer to him.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Your laugh is the best sound in the entire world,” Oliver mumbles into Percy’s shirt, and then he has to pull away so he can see Percy’s blush spreading over his ears and the back of his neck. “I love it so much.”

“I love you so much,” Percy says, his voice steady, his eyes bright. Oliver thinks of when he wasn’t even able to accept Oliver’s love, much less return it verbally. “And I would love to come to bed with you, but I don’t think I can physically move myself from this chair.”

Oliver puts one arm over Percy’s shoulders and the other under his knees and lifts him before he can really think about what he’s doing. Percy gasps, the sound fluttering from somewhere below his ribcage. He’s too tall and lanky for Oliver to hold properly, but he puts his arms around Oliver’s neck, which helps a little.

“This is really weird because nothing is supporting my butt,” Percy says directly into Oliver’s ear, and they smile at each other.

“Is it okay, though?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s good.”

Oliver walks them out of the common room and into the dorms, where Percy uses one hand to part the curtains to their bed before Oliver puts him down. His chest is heaving when he sprawls out against the sheets, and Oliver climbs in next to him, pulling up the covers as he goes.

“Are you okay?” he says after casting a silencing spell.

“I’m kind of breathless,” Percy admits, snuggling back against his pillow. “I forget how strong you are sometimes.”

Oliver grins. “You jest. You love how strong I am.”

“I never said I didn’t,” Percy says, wrapping an arm around Oliver’s waist. “I just didn’t know you could pick me up so easily.”

“I didn’t either,” Oliver says. He folds his arms around Percy’s back till they’re as close together as they can possibly be. He can feel Percy breathing more normally now against his chest. “You’re so tall, I thought it would be a problem.”

“’m not that tall,” Percy objects. He tucks his head against the side of Oliver’s neck, and Oliver kisses his hair absentmindedly. “I’m kind of average, honestly.”

Oliver’s brow wrinkles. “What?”

“I said I’m kind of average.”

“That’s the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard,” Oliver says indignantly, and Percy huffs.

“Keep your voice down. That silencing charm can’t cover everything, you know.”

“No, really. You’re way above average. You’re incredible, okay? You’re smart, and you’re driven, and you’re the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen.”

He can feel Percy’s face heating up from where it’s laying on his shoulder. He thinks that maybe his guilty pleasure is making Percy blush.

“You have to tell me that. You’re my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t be dating you if you were just average,” Oliver says. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being average or whatever, but I can’t believe you think you’re nothing special.”

“I’m only smart because I’m driven,” Percy says like Oliver hasn’t said anything. “And I’m hardly gorgeous. I don’t think there’s one part of my body that couldn’t use improvement in at least one way. And I—”

As gently as he can, Oliver tilts Percy’s head off of his neck until he can look his boyfriend in the eye. “That’s bullshit. I love every single part of you, and I love them individually, and I love them when they’re all working together to be you, too. I know you don’t think you’re anything more than average, and it is way too late for me to be eloquent about this, so I’ll write you an essay tomorrow morning. Just let me tell you you’re beautiful and don’t argue, okay? You know I can’t stand it when people can’t see their own potential. Sometimes I think that people belittle you so much for your accomplishments that you just stopped believing that they were even difficult to accomplish. And maybe not everything you’ve done has been entirely for the better, but you don’t get to say that it doesn’t take any smarts to get to where you are right now. Because it does.”

He’s run out of breath, and this is in part due to how Percy is kissing him so hard that all he can feel is the hot press of their lips coming together, and Percy maneuvers his arm so that he can pull Oliver on top of him. He knows exactly what he wants, Oliver realizes. And Oliver wants that too, but he doesn’t want it at 3AM when the rest of their peers are asleep around them.

“Percy,” he says, pulling back, “not—not right now. Tomorrow.”

Percy’s ears are visibly dark even though the only light is the moon through the window through the bed curtains.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “I’m just really—lucky. I don’t know what I did to deserve you. I love you.”

“It’s okay,” Oliver says. He cups the back of Percy’s head and threads his fingers through the fine hair at the base of his neck. “I love you so fucking much. And I really will write you that essay tomorrow, I swear. But right now I need to sleep.”

Percy puts his lips against Oliver’s, but instead of kissing him, he just smiles. “I love you. I don’t say that enough.” His smile turns down, and Oliver splays a hand over Percy’s hip, fingertips brushing his stomach.

“It’s okay,” he repeats. “I love you, too.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on yeahbees.tumblr.com or on twitter @beesinsp if you want!


End file.
